Snatched
by ReillyJade
Summary: While caught on the Horcrux hunt, Harry is taken away, leaving Ron and Hermione alone with the Snatchers. Only Ron can protect Hermione from the vicious Scabior, and with his wand gone, love is the only weapon he has. Warnings inside.
1. Part I: The Snatch

_Warning: This story is rated M for language throughout and violence/sex abuse in a coming chapter.**  
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_**Part I - The Snatch**  
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_Run, run, run. Just keep running. She's ahead of you. She'll be okay. Just run and everything will be okay. Run!_

Those were the only thoughts that Ron Weasley allowed into his mind as he darted through the forest. He ignored the pain in his calves and his desire to slow down and catch his breath. He forced himself to think of nothing but getting as far away as possible from the Snatchers thundering behind him. He could tell they were getting closer, but he wouldn't give up. Though Harry was too far, he was able see Hermione running up ahead, her wild brown hair billowing behind her. She was the only thing keeping him going. He _had_ to keep her safe.

Then he heard it. He knew he was trapped the second he heard one of them cast a spell. Though the result was immediate, Ron felt like the world was in slow motion when the ropes wrapped themselves around his legs, bringing him crashing down to the ground and halting his efforts to get away. As he lie there, he was still able to see Hermione disappear over the hill. It gave him hope; though he was down, she still had a chance. She could still make it out alive.

While the rest of the snatchers ran past him in pursuit of Hermione and Harry, one slowed down to a walk. He picked up Ron's fallen wand from the ground, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, and began to drag him across the bumpy terrain.

"Don' worry, ginger," the snatcher said in a scruffy voice. "We'll catch u' to the others soon."

Though he knew it was useless, Ron struggled against the ropes, trying to loosen them. The snatcher merely laughed at his attempts, clearly gaining gratification from watching him struggle.

"Give it up, ginger. 'ey are magically bonded. You ain't gettin' out 'til I let you out."

But all Ron could think about was Hermione. He just had to get to her somehow. He couldn't let them hurt her. He loved her. She didn't know it, but he loved her more than anything. So against all odds, he continued to fight against the magical ropes until they arrived in a small clearing a couple minutes later.

Ron was shocked by the sight of Harry, who was being held by the collar of his coat by Fenrir Greyback. His face was all swollen and splotchy, as if he had been hit by a stinging jinx. His glasses were also missing, which he quickly guessed had been Hermione's idea.

_Hermione._

She was caught, too, and a lump formed in his throat when he saw that a big man had a tight hold on her upper arms, smirking as she thrashed against his grasp.

"Don't touch her!" Ron yelled before he could stop himself.

"Shut it, ginger," the snatcher holding him snarled. Ron gasped as he felt the searing pain tear through his body when the snatcher kicked him hard in the stomach.

"Leave him alone!" Hermione screeched. Her snatcher tightened his grip on her.

"Your boyfrien' will get a lot worse than tha' if he doesn't learn to be'ave 'imself," said the snatcher in the long, black leather coat. Ron recognized him from the Daily Prophet and recalled that his name was Scabior.

"Wha's your name?" Scabior asked Harry.

"Dudley," Harry quickly said. "Vernon Dudley."

"Check it!" Scabior said to one of his partners. He then made his way over toward the still-struggling Hermione, a sneer present on his face.

"An' you, m'lovely," he said, "wha' do they call you?"

"P-Penelope Clearwater," Hermione stammered. "Half-blood."

Ron's blood began to boil as Scabior leaned in toward Hermione. He grabbed a lock of her hair and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Ron wanted to yell, to tell him to get away from her, but he knew it would make things worse. All he could do was silently pray that they were going to get out of this alive.

"There ain't no Vernon Dudley in 'ere," Greyback said to Scabior. Ron was grateful for this for a moment, because Scabior moved away from Hermione and toward Harry. His relief faded, however, when he saw Scabior take a good, long look at Harry. Not even his newly-swollen features could completely conceal his famous scar, and Scabior noticed.

"Change o' plans," he said with a slight hint of pleasure in his voice. "We aren't takin' this lot back to the Ministry."

"Shoul' we go now?" the snatcher holding Ron asked.

"Take 'em to the - on second thought…" Scabior said with a smirk. He turned away from Harry and began to walk back toward Hermione. Ron watched with disgust as Scabior reached his hand up to brush it against Hermione's flushed cheek. She attempted to turn away from his touch, shaking with fear.

"You're a pretty lil' thing," he remarked huskily. "So sweet. So innocent…" The fear in Hermione's eyes grew as he leaned in once again to smell her. When he pulled back, he addressed his fellow snatchers. Though his eyes remained locked on Hermione's as he spoke, his message was meant for everyone.

"Take the boys. Leave the girl."

Ron panicked. "NO! Leave me instead! Let her go, please! _Please_!"

"You'll get 'er back, ginger," Scabior said with a satisfied smirk, "once I'm finished."

"DON'T - YOU - DARE - TOUCH - HER!" Ron bellowed. He could see Hermione's eyes fill with frightened tears as she realized she was about to be left alone in the woods with the vicious Scabior. He thrashed against the ropes harder than ever before, desperate to do anything in his power to protect Hermione. Scabior sighed heavily and walked toward Ron. He kneeled before him and locked his dark eyes on Ron's blue ones.

"Tell ye what," Scabior said with an evil grin, "you can stay if ye want. Actually, yes, let's do tha'. We can send yer friend away, and you, me, 'n yer girlie will 'ave a lil' fun. Wha'cha think, ginger?"

Ron's only response was to spit in Scabior's face. He had done it on impulse, and he regretted it immediately. He feared for both himself and Hermione as he watched Scabior's eyes darken and narrow with anger.

"Bastard. You're goin' to wish ye never did that," Scabior snarled in a whisper as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat.

"Change o' plan, gentlemen," Scabior announced to the group as he stood, sneering. He turned to Greyback. "You, take _Dudley_ to the Manor. The rest o' us'll be there shortly."

"But why do I have to-"

"Now, Greyback!"

Greyback growled, but obeyed. He tightened his grasp on Harry's arm and disapparated on the spot.

"Now," Scabior said, "since ginger 'ere thinks it's okay to disrespect us, I think it's our duty to teach him a lesson. Wha'cha think about tha', boys?"

Scabior's fellow snatchers all murmered in agreement and nodded their heads. One of them even had the nerve to laugh.

Scabior continued. "I'm thinkin' an eye for an eye. He disrespected me, so I think I should disrespect somethin' o' his."

Suddenly, he reached over and grabbed Hermione roughly by her hair, causing her to whimper in pain. Ron's heart sank.

"Wha'cha say to tha', beautiful?" When Hermione remained silent, Scabior continued. "Ah, c'mon, pretty. If ye are who I think ye are, yer Hogwarts' perfect lil' prefect. Teacher's pet. Y'think people who break the rules deserve to be taught a lesson. Isn't that righ'?" He tightened his grip on her hair and pulled her closer to him, and she let out a sob. "_Isn't that righ'?"  
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"Please, leave her alone!" Ron yelled, tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore. "Just let her go! Do whatever you want with me, but leave her alone!"

Scabior let out a heavy sigh and gestured to one of the other snatchers.

"Davis, will you take care o' ginger, please? Jus' shut 'im up, will you?"

The man named Davis sauntered over to Ron with heavy footsteps. Ron barely had time to register his presence before Davis' boot collided with the side of his head. The last thing Ron saw before everything went black was the look of pure terror on Hermione's beautiful face.

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**Author's Note:** This little plot bunny has been biting me for quite some time. I'm thinking four chapters, maybe five.

Review, maybe?


	2. Part II: The Torture

_*****WARNING:**_ This chapter contains torture, violence, and sex abuse. If you are uncomfortable reading about such topics, do not read this chapter. You've been warned._*******_

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_**Part II - The Torture**_

Ron's ears were ringing as he slowly regained consciousness. He could barely keep his eyes open, and when he could, his vision was blurry. He couldn't remember where he was or how he got there, not even when recognized the feeling of cold earth against his cheek. There was also a metallic, copper-like taste in his mouth. Blood.

"Umph…ugh…" he muttered. He couldn't quite muster anything coherent.

He tried to move, but his arms and legs wouldn't budge. As he wiggled his wrists, he felt his skin burn as they rubbed against what felt like rope. It was tight and began to cut into his skin, so he stopped. He was ready to just close his eyes and drift back into darkness when he heard a familiar voice.

"Ron, _Ron!_ Are you awake? _Ron!"_

It was a female's voice, a voice he knew and loved very much, and the ringing in his ears made it seem like she was far away. She sounded scared and desperate.

"Ron, help! _Help!_" Was he dreaming?

"Shut it, bitch!" a man's voice yelled. Ron then heard the sound of a hand roughly striking skin, followed by a sob.

"Ginger ain't gon' help ye now, Granger!" another man said with a tone of sadistic happiness.

Granger…Granger…_Hermione!_

He remembered now. They were hunted down in the woods, chased, and captured. Greyback had taken Harry, and the rest of the snatchers stayed behind with him and Hermione. Then a man named Davis knocked him out cold. He remembered Scabior getting rough with Hermione, threatening to use her to teach him a lesson…

_Merlin, no…no!_

Ron forced his eyes open, and the sight caused him to let out a strangled cry. Hermione, with tears streaming down her face, was lying on her back in the middle of the grassy clearing they were in, tied down by four ropes - one for each of her limbs - that seemed to be magically rooted into the earth. Her grey jacket was lying in a heap several feet away from her. To his horror, he saw that the front of her shirt had been ripped open, revealing her bare stomach and white bra to the four gawking snatchers standing around her in a semi-circle. Scabior was on his knees in between her legs, hovering over her shaking body. He turned his attention to Ron at the sound of his cry.

"Ah, ginger! Awake jus' in time fer th' show!" he said all too gleefully.

"Get away from her, you monster! I'll kill you!" Ron screamed, spitting out a bit of blood as he did so. He resumed his struggle against the magical ropes as he had done earlier.

"Ye jus' don' get it, do ye, ginger?" Scabior snarled. "Yer wastin' yer time wrestlin' agains' them."

"I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!" Ron continued to yell. It took all of his energy, but he wouldn't stop fighting against the ropes, fighting to get to Hermione.

Scabior laughed. "Davis, woul' ye please go restrain ginger? He's beginnin' to get on my nerves a bit."

Davis walked over to him and grabbed him by collar, throwing in a punch in the eye for good measure. Black and blue spots clouded Ron's vision upon the contact and he felt faint, but he continued to struggle with all of his might.

"Leave him be!" Hermione yelled through her tears. "Don't hurt him!"

Scabior turned his gaze to her. "Ah, Miss Granger. I almos' forgot 'bout ye fer a second. Thanks fer the reminder, beautiful."

Ron was horrified as Scabior slowly worked his hands up Hermione's stomach and over her covered breasts. He grabbed the fabric in his fists.

"Mind if I take this off, m'lovely?" Scabior said with a satisfied look. Without waiting for an answer, he tore her bra open, revealing her breasts to all of the men looking on. Hermione cried as Scabior ran his hands all over her chest while his fellow snatchers catcalled and cheered. Davis leaned down to Ron's ear.

"She's a beauty, ginger," he snarled. "No wonder ye wanted t'keep her all to yerself."

"Fuck you," Ron spat. He resumed his struggle against the ropes despite the fact that Davis had a tight hold on him. The snatcher merely laughed.

"Fine, do wha' ye want. Waste yer energy. It ain't gon' get ye anywhere."

Hermione, too, was thrashing against the ropes holding her down, but her motions only seemed to give Scabior and the other snatchers further gratification. The men standing continued to cheer as Scabior let his hands wander from her breasts back down her stomach until they reached the top of her jeans.

"I love the way yer hips are movin' fer me, beautiful," Scabior said with a thrilled smirk. "Makes me think ye wan' more. Ye wan' more, pretty?" He undid the top button.

"No…please, no…" Hermione whimpered. "No…"

"Oh, yes," Scabior said as he undid the second button. "Ye want it, beautiful. Ye want me." He pulled down her zipper. The snatchers cheered and whistled.

"DON'T TOUCH HER! LEAVE HER ALONE!" Ron screamed. He was breaking down as Scabior began to pull down her jeans. Hermione was crying hysterically, and he couldn't take it. He couldn't let Scabior hurt her. He _wouldn't_ let Scabior hurt her. Ron wrestled and flailed until he was finally able to escape Davis' grip.

He landed face down and pain soared through the bruises already there, but he didn't care. He used all of his power to wiggle his way across the ground toward her, desperate to help her somehow. Davis made a move to grab him, but Scabior stopped him.

"Leave him," Scabior said with a smirk. "Ye know wha' to do."

Hermione was looking at Ron through the tears in her eyes as he writhed his way across the ground toward her. He didn't know what he'd do once he got there, what without a wand and his hands bound by magical ropes, but he'd figure it out. He had to. He _had_ to save her.

Hermione's jeans were already down by her ankles, leaving only her knickers to cover her, once Ron was within two feet of her. He was so close. If his hands weren't tied, he could reach over and grab her arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scabior give a subtle nod to the man behind him. Ron then heard Davis' menacing voice behind him.

"_Crucio!_"

The pain was unreal and unlike anything he had ever felt. He heard Hermione scream while his entire body contorted in agony. For a short moment, Ron completely forgot about Hermione; nothing existed but the excruciating pain ripping through him. He could have sworn his bones were shattering to bits, and every muscle in his body felt as if it was being slowly ground into dust. It hurt so much that he couldn't even scream.

As the pain slowly faded, he felt himself once again being dragged across the ground, back to where he was before. Davis leaned him up against a tree and created another rope with his wand. The rope tied itself around Ron's middle and secured him to the tree trunk. Davis aimed a punch at his face that was so hard Ron thought he'd black out again. He felt fresh blood run from his nose.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione screamed. "Leave him!"

"That's enough o' tha', Davis," Scabior said. "I wan' Granger focusin' on me, not ginger." With that, Scabior grinned down at the bawling Hermione and began to pull down her knickers.

"No, please!" she cried. "Please, don't do this!"

"Don' worry, pretty," Scabior said, "We'll take this slow, alrigh'?"

Ron thought he was going to be sick as Scabior began to probe Hermione's sensitive skin with his fingers. He was openly sobbing as Hermione continued to cry and struggle against her ropes. Without any sort of ease of gentleness, Scabior roughly thrust one of his fingers into her. Hermione screamed louder than ever, and Ron thought he was going to die.

"Nooo!" she wailed in agony. "Stop! It hurts! It hurts! Please, stop!"

"Aw, whatsa matter, beautiful?" Scabior asked, withdrawing his finger. Ron was horrified to see that it was covered in blood.

Scabior smirked. "Well, well. Looks like I got myself a slice o' cherry pie!"

The snatchers all laughed and crowed in delight, and Ron cried out in anger, resuming his struggle against the ropes. Davis laughed.

"Whatsa matter, ginger? Angry 'cause pretty wasn' puttin' out fer ye?"

Ron ignored his snide remark, and instead yelled at Scabior.

"I swear, I'll kill you! Don't you dare touch her again!"

Scabior laughed. "Funny. I was plannin quite the opposite, ginger. Thought I'd loosen 'er up a bit before I 'ave a go at her." Scabior inserted not one, but two fingers into her. He thrust them roughly, eventually adding a third, ignoring Hermione's agonized sobs.

"Stop, please! _Please!"_

"Please? As ye wish, beautiful," Scabior said. He pulled his fingers from her and went to undo his own pants.

"No, no!" Ron screamed. "NOOO!"

He fought with all of his might, not caring that the ropes were cutting into his skin and causing his wrists to bleed. Hermione, too, was putting up quite a fight. She came so close to loosening her ropes that two of the other snatchers had to come hold her down as Scabior pushed down his pants, exposing his full erection to Hermione's wide, terrified eyes.

"No, no! Please, NO! PLEASE!" she sobbed. "DON'T DO THIS!"

Scabior laughed, rubbing himself in anticipation. The two snatchers holding her down had allowed their hands to wander downward, groping Hermione's bare chest. Even Davis had removed one of his hands from Ron's collar to rub himself through the fabric of his tweed pants.

It was too much. The anger, the fear, the violation, the torture…Ron thought he was going to lose his mind with it all. Then there was the love. Ron loved Hermione more than he had ever loved anything or anyone, and they were hurting her in one of the most vicious, deplorable ways known to humankind. In his eyes, she was the most wonderful person to ever exist, and he refused to let them hurt her. She didn't deserve this.

It was all of his love for her that he thought of as he put up one last fight against the ropes. His heart thundered against his ribcage. He writhed, wrestled, and struggled, but most of all, he loved. He loved Hermione with every nerve in his body, with every ounce of energy he had left, with all of the magic in his blood. As Scabior began to push Hermione's legs open a little further and position himself in between them, Ron could literally feel his love for her coursing through his veins, his mind, and his heart. It was like a volcano exploding within him, and he suddenly felt more powerful than he ever had in his life. At the sound of something snapping, he looked down at his wrists.

The ropes were breaking.

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**Author's Note:** Much thanks to all who reviewed. Expect Part III to be up soon - the inspiration is there, and I just can't stop writing! Reviews, as always, are much appreciated and loved. See you all soon! :)

(Also, I've created a banner for this story using a couple of pics from the scene in the film that inspired me to write this. The link to it is on my profile page if you want to check it out!)


	3. Part III: The Rescue

_**Part III - The Rescue**_

It was a strange, but incredible, feeling. Ron was losing control of his magic as it burst through him on an extraordinary scale. He didn't think he had ever channeled such a high amount of magic in his entire life, especially without a wand. He had no idea why it was happening or how he was doing it, but it couldn't have happened at a better time. Whatever he was doing was breaking the ropes around his wrists, waist, and legs, and with Hermione in danger, he had to escape fast. He had to save her.

With one final, loud snap, his wrists were free. Davis tore his twisted gaze from the crying, screaming Hermione down to Ron.

"What the-? How'd ye-?" he stammered. His eyes widened in fear as he watched Ron's hands curl into tight fists.

"Show's over, you pig!" Ron growled.

The remaining ropes on his waist and legs snapped apart as he threw the most powerful punch he ever had in his entire life. Davis' nose made a horrible cracking noise as it broke, spewing warm, red blood across Ron's face. He landed unconscious on the ground beside the tree with a loud thud. This grabbed the attention of the remaining snatchers, who looked up in confusion, then in fear.

Scabior was the last to look up. Unlike the other snatchers, he didn't look frightened. If anything, he seemed incredibly annoyed and bored. He pulled away from Hermione with an angry sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Typical Davis," he said, amused. "Can't even handle the simple task o' keepin' ginger under control."

"Um, boss-" one of the other snatchers began.

"Betcha feel real manly, don' ye, takin' out Davis like tha'," Scabior remarked with a sneer, ignoring his comrade. "Truth is, ginger, tha' ain't goin' to stop me from havin' my way with yer pretty lil' girlie here."

"Like hell you are!" Ron yelled. The blood and bruises on his face made him look like a savage as he ran toward them all with a vengeance, a look of pure hatred plastered to his face. His magic was out of control and he felt like an animal, a beast untamed.

He attacked the largest snatcher first. With nothing more than a glance, Ron was able to shatter the wand in the snatcher's outstretched hand before he even reached him. Punching this man in the face, Ron decided, would not suffice. Instead, he managed to break his wand arm, his left leg, and several of his ribs without so much as a snap of his fingers. A few gashes appeared on the man's face and neck, blood rapidly gushing out as he collapsed to the forest floor with a grunt.

Ron somehow managed to harm the other two nameless snatchers in similar ways. Their wands, too, shattered as Ron approached, and several of their bones were broken as he charged toward them. They suffered deep skin wounds as well; one of them even seemed to lose a sizeable chunk of his face. Once they were unconscious and sprawled out on the grass, Ron turned to stare down Scabior.

The lead snatcher was certainly intimidated now. His pants were back in place, and he was standing several feet away from Hermione with his wand held out in a shaking hand. Ron knew he could have easily broken it with the powerful magic spilling from him, but he didn't want to. Scabior had viciously hurt Hermione, and had been about to do worse. This one was personal.

Ron slowly walked over to Scabior, never breaking eye contact. He was breathing heavily once he reached him, and he could see the beads of sweat rolling down Scabior's face.

"You were right about one thing," Ron said quietly, but intensely. "She's very pretty."

He grabbed Scabior's wand, held it up in front of his face, and snapped it in two.

"But she sure as hell isn't a 'thing,' you monster."

Wandless and scared, Scabior spun on his heel and darted into the woods. Ron followed, ready to give this man the punishment he deserved. Being a snatcher, Scabior was fast, but Ron's magic was giving him the ability to catch up quickly without losing his breath. Once the trench coat and long, black ponytail were in his sight, Ron held out his hand, and Scabior tumbled to the ground.

Ron grabbed the man with force and roughly pushed his back into a nearby tree. He stared him down with cold blue eyes.

"You messed with the wrong girl," Ron snarled, punching him hard in the mouth.

After regaining his composure, Scabior had the nerve to smile, blood coating his teeth and dripping from his lips.

"Ye wanna know just 'ow tight she was, ginger?" he asked. "Ye wanna know just 'ow good she felt 'round me?"

"No," Ron growled. He grabbed the hand Scabior had violated Hermione with, ready to release more of his magic on this disgusting man. "What I want is to make sure you never hurt another girl again."

Scabior's fingers were slowly sliced off one by one, and Ron took pleasure in hearing snatcher scream in agony, begging for mercy. He had never seen so much blood in his life, and he was sure the man was going to faint from it. But just in case he didn't, Ron took it upon himself to wrap his hands around Scabior's neck.

"An eye for an eye, remember? You taught me that," Ron whispered as he tightened his grip on the snatcher's throat. It didn't take long for Scabior to sink to the ground, his eyes drifting closed and his face turning a ghostly shade of white. Ron stared at the man now lying beside his feet. His job with the snatchers was done, and he could literally feel his magic simmer down.

Ron turned to run back to Hermione. There was no telling how long it would take for the unconscious snatchers to wake up, and he had to get both of them to safety. As he began to run, however, he suddenly began to feel fatigued, both mentally and physically. The muscles in his legs throbbed in protest as he ran and he felt extremely winded, and he assumed it was the result of him losing control of his magic. Despite his overwhelming desire to sit down and rest, he forced himself to keep going. Hermione needed him, and he refused to let her down.

It seemed like forever, but he finally arrived back in the small clearing where they had originally be captured. To his relief, all of the snatchers were still down on the ground. As he approached Hermione, his exhaustion had grown to the point where his vision was hazy and he had trouble walking straight.

He dropped to his knees beside her, and to his horror, he saw that she was barely conscious. Hermione's nose was bleeding and there was a large bruise on the side of her face; Scabior must have thrown a couple of punches at her while Ron was busy attacking the others. There was also a large gash down the side of her waist. A lump grew in Ron's throat as he took her hand in his. Her eyes fluttered open, and her scared gaze met his.

"Ron…" she whispered, silent tears escaping her eyes. It was barely audible. "Help me…"

"I'm here, Hermione," he choked out, reaching out his free hand to gently touch her face. "I'm here. They're not going to hurt you anymore. I promise."

"Ron…Ron…" Her eyes closed as she fainted.

"Hermione, I'm going to keep you safe, I promise. I promise, Hermione," Ron said even though he knew she couldn't hear him. He just hoped she knew.

Despite it being a simple task, it took a lot of effort for Ron in his weakened state to pull up her knickers and jeans, and he was respectful enough to not look at the skin he was covering up. Her bra and shirt, however, were an entirely different story: the way Scabior had ripped them were in no way fixable to Ron, as he was complete rubbish with mending charms. He forced himself off the ground to walk over to Hermione's enchanted bag and coat a short distance away. Ron also grabbed both of their wands from the pocket of one of the unconscious snatchers.

With his wand, he broke all of the ropes tying her to the ground. The effort had only required a tiny amount of magic, but he felt like he was going pass out from it. The only thing keeping him going was willpower, the will to protect Hermione from further harm. Ron slipped her coat onto her limp body, then wrapped her in a warm blanket he took from her beaded bag. He carefully lifted her off the ground. Even with her less-than-healthy weight from spending so much time camping with a severe lack of nourishment, she was incredibly heavy to the weakened Ron.

He knew he had to Apparate with her, and it scared him to no end. He was never good at Apparition in a regular state; he was incredibly tired and frail at the moment, and he also had to take Hermione along with him. Using a small amount of magic to break her ropes had been awful, and he could only imagine what Apparition, which took a lot of magic to work, would do to him, or if he could even do it at all. He was afraid by doing so he was going to injure her further, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happened. If only she had put a broom in that bloody bag of hers…

Then he heard it. A soft, subtle groan came from one of the snatchers. He was waking up.

In a panic with no other alternative, Ron tightened his hold on Hermione and prayed for the best. He gripped his wand, letting the image of the only truly safe place he knew of seep into his mind, and he spun on the spot.

The feeling was horrible. Ron felt as if his body was being ripped in half as he and Hermione spun around and around. It felt like hours, but it had really only been a few seconds of traveling before they landed on cold, wet sand. His whole body hurt, and all Ron wanted to do was sleep until the pain went away. But he forced his eyes open, and he saw that Hermione had landed right beside him. She was still unconscious, but she looked like she was still in one piece. Ron looked down at himself, and he, too, was still entirely intact.

He had done it. Ron allowed a small smile to appear on his face due to this little victory. As he rolled over closer to Hermione, he could see Shell Cottage in the distance behind the dunes. It was a short walk; he was sure he could make it.

"Hermione, do you see it? Can you see the cottage, Hermione?" Ron asked her seemingly sleeping form. "We'll be safe there. You're going to be okay. We'll both be alright." He may have been speaking to Hermione, but Ron was really just trying to reassure himself.

He secured her in his arms before standing up. He barely made it three steps before his knees gave out and he tumbled back down to the ground with a yelp of pain, dropping Hermione in the process. He picked her up again, stood up, and fell down once more. He just _had_ to get her to the cottage. She needed healing and rest.

"Bill…Bill…" Ron tried to yell, but his voice wouldn't get any louder than a whisper, and even that sound was drowned out by the ocean's crashing waves.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ron choked out to the beautiful witch in his arms. "I'll get us there…Bill!" Tears began to form in his eyes when he knew his attempts were failing. "Bill!"

Then Ron remembered something he had seen Dumbledore do years before. With his hazy, tired eyes, Ron looked around for his wand. It was in the sand near Hermione's feet, and he desperately reached for it. This was his only hope, and he prayed that it would work. He pressed the tip of his wand to his throat and shouted.

"BILL!" he bellowed. Not only was it loud, but it echoed several times.

He didn't have the energy to give it a second try, so he waited with bated breath and looked toward the dunes for any sign of his brother. "Please, Bill…" he whispered to himself. "Help us…"

Relief washed over him at the sight of a head of bright red hair emerging over the dunes. Bill was climbing over them slowly and cautiously with his wand in hand, but when he saw who had called, he lowered his arm and began running.

"Fleur! Fleur, it's Ron!" Bill called back toward the cottage as he ran. "Hurry!"

Bill dropped to his knees beside Ron and Hermione. At the sight of them both covered in blood and bruises, his scarred face became clouded with panic.

"Merlin, Ron, what happened?"

"Please…take her…" Ron desperately pleaded. "Take Hermione…please…"

Bill nodded and swooped Hermione up into his arms just as Fleur appeared beside them.

"Bill, bring her upstairs to the guest room," Fleur said. She knelt down beside Ron while Bill hastily walked across the beach with Hermione cradled in his arms.

"Ron," Fleur said soothingly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "if I support you, will you be able to walk?"

Ron knew it would be painful to do so, but he nodded. "Yeah, I think..."

"Okay, come on," Fleur said, pulling him up with her. "I've got you…lean on me, I've got you, you'll be okay…"

Fleur supported Ron all the way up to the cottage. Once they were in the sitting room, she gently lowered him onto the sofa and covered him with a blanket. Ron felt so much better sitting down; his vision started to clear up, and his muscles suddenly hurt a lot less.

"Let me get you something to eat, Ron. Some water, too."

"No, please…take care of Hermione, don't worry about me…"

"Ron, you're weak. You need to-"

"I know, but please, take care of Hermione first. She's really beaten up…please, Fleur, help her first…"

"Only if you're sure."

Ron nodded.

"Very well," Fleur said. She gave him one last touch on the shoulder before heading up the stairs to tend to Hermione.

Bill came down immediately after and sat down beside his brother.

"Ron, what happened? Where's Harry?"

Ron was ashamed to admit it, but he had completely forgotten about Harry. He hoped he was alright, wherever he was.

"They took him…the snatchers took him…"

"But they didn't take you?"

Ron shook his head. "No, they…Merlin…"

Everything hit him then. The capture, the torture, the assault on Hermione…it hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt sick, and his eyes started to sting in a way that was becoming far too familiar for his liking.

"Merlin…Hermione…no…"

He broke down and clung to Bill, sobbing into his chest. Bill wrapped his arms around his brother, just like he had done so often so many years ago when their other brothers teased and taunted him.

"It's okay, Ron. You're okay," Bill said. "You're safe. Hermione's safe. She's in good hands. Fleur is an excellent healer. Hermione's going to be alright, I promise. Everything will be okay."

Ron knew Bill was right, but he was so overwhelmed by everything that he just continued to cry in his eldest brother's arms and murmur the only name that ever mattered to him.

"Hermione…Hermione…"

* * *

**Author's Note:** As always, thank you for reading! Chapter four is in the works and will be up soon, so keep an eye out for it. :)


	4. Part IV: The Healing

_**Part IV – The Healing**_

Hermione woke to a dull headache and a sharp sting in the side of her waist. She winced slightly, but did not open her eyes. She was too tired, too weak...she just wanted to fall into a deep sleep and let the pain go away on its own.

"It's okay, Hermione," she heard a woman's voice say softly. "It's okay."

It was a kind voice, one that Hermione knew very well. In fact, the only person she knew who spoke with such an accent was...

"Fleur?" Hermione whispered, opening her eyes slightly. "Is that you?"

Hermione was greeted with Fleur's warm smile and gentle eyes. The older witch was sitting beside her and tending to the gash on her side, dabbing it with a slimy, blue ointment of some kind.

"Hello, Hermione. How are you feeling?"

"I'm...where am I?" Hermione asked as she looked around at surroundings she did not recognize. She was lying in a large, comfortable bed in a handsome room that was painted lavender and decorated with seashells. The window was open slightly, and Hermione could have sworn she heard the sound of the ocean in the distance.

"Shell Cottage," Fleur replied with a smile as she began to apply a large, white bandage to Hermione's waist. "Mine and Bill's home. You're safe."

"But, how did I get here?"

"Ron brought you here by Apparition."

"Ron? Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, suddenly very alert and aware of the fact that he wasn't in the room. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed sooner. After all, the last time she had seen him was in the woods, right after...

She didn't want to think about it.

"Don't worry. He's downstairs with Bill," Fleur said. "I'm going to check on him once I'm finished here."

"Can I go see him? I need to see him," Hermione said hastily. She attempted to sit up, but the pain in her side and abdomen was too great, and she whimpered. Fleur gently pushed her back down.

"I know you want to see him, Hermione, but please try not to move. You're badly injured. You need to rest."

"Fleur, please," Hermione protested. "I need to see Ron."

Fleur, who was now tending to the cuts and bruises on Hermione's stomach, sighed, but smiled kindly.

"I know you want to see him, but I really need to take care of both of your wounds. You, especially, need to stay in bed for at least a few hours, but I promise I'll send Ron up here once I've finished checking on both of you. Is that alright?"

Hermione reluctantly nodded. "Okay."

Fleur smiled. "Thank you. Now, don't be alarmed, but I had to change your clothes. The one's you were wearing were...well, they were in quite bad shape, so I put you in a pair of my pajamas. I hope you don't mind."

Hermione tensed up immediately, but not because of what Fleur had done. No, it was because of what _they_ had done, what _he_ had done. She knew perfectly well why the clothes she had been wearing were dirty and ripped, and, slowly but surely, the events of the past couple of hours began to seep into her mind. She could hear them in her head...their sniggers, their cusses, their catcalls when Scabior tore open her shirt...

"Thanks," she managed to whisper. She really was happy to be out of those clothes.

Fleur had done the best she could with the cuts on Hermione's stomach, so she began to dress them in bandages that were similar, albeit smaller, to the one she had used on her waist.

"While you were still passed out," Fleur said, "I had to run downstairs to grab some medicines, and I overheard a bit of what Ron and Bill were discussing. You were both captured by Snatchers?"

Hermione nodded, a lump forming in her throat. "Us and Harry, but we don't know where they took him."

"But they didn't take the two of you?" When Hermione shook her head, Fleur continued. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you two escape? I would imagine they took your wands."

"They did. They...tied us," Hermione choked out. "They tied us with some kind of magical rope, but Ron somehow managed to get out."

"Without a wand?"

Hermione nodded. "The ropes around him just snapped and broke, and he was free. Then he got this weird, vicious look on his face and he knocked out all of the Snatchers. It was kind of scary, actually. I had never seen anything like it before, not even with someone who had a wand."

Fleur's eyes were wide with shock.

"Raw magic," she whispered so quietly that Hermione could barely hear her.

"Raw magic?"

"Nothing, nothing. Thank goodness he was able to free the both of you," Fleur said with a kind smile.

"Yes. It would have been..." Hermione started to say, attempting to come up with the right words. "It would have been awful he didn't."

The two women sat in silence for a few minutes as Fleur finished dressing the remainder of Hermione's wounds. When she was finished, she pulled her shirt back down to cover Hermione's bandaged stomach. She was the first to speak again.

"Hermione," she began, sounding as if she was treading carefully, "there's something I need to ask you."

Hermione looked at her and nodded.

"The last thing I want to be is indelicate, but I noticed some blood in your jeans when I changed your clothes." As Hermione closed her eyes, Fleur continued gingerly. "I don't mean to pry, but I'm only asking because I need to make sure I've healed you properly. Did...something else happen while you and Ron were in the woods?"

Hermione could feel the tears threatening to emerge as she nodded. She felt Fleur's hand gently close around her own.

"Hermione, did they rape you?"

The tears began to fall as Hermione let out a small sob. She shook her head.

"No...but they would have...they were touching me, and they were laughing..."

Hermione continued to cry as Fleur sat down on the bed beside her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"He had my clothes off...his pants were down, and he would have done it...they all would have, in front of Ron...Fleur, they would have taken turns..."

Fleur rocked Hermione soothingly and murmured comforting words as Hermione sobbed into her shoulder.

"You're safe now, Hermione. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe..."

It took a few minutes for Hermione's sobs to mellow out into hiccups and silent tears.

"I'm just so humiliated," Hermione choked out.

"Hermione..."

"Fleur, Ron saw everything. He saw me naked, he saw them touch me...I'm so embarrassed. He's never going to be able to look at me again..."

Fleur gently ran her fingers through Hermione's hair, untangling the snarls. "I don't think that's true," she said soothingly. "Ron cares so much about you. You're his best friend."

"I know," Hermione sniffled. "It's just...I'm...I don't know." She inhaled deeply. "I'm so stupid. It's my fault we got caught by Snatchers. I shouldn't have brought us to that forest...none of this would have happened if it wasn't for me. Now Harry's gone, Ron's hurt, and I'm..." She buried her face in her hands.

"Hermione, you're not stupid. None of this is your fault. All that matters is that you and Ron are safe. And I'm sure Harry's okay, too. He's a smart and powerful wizard. Wherever he is, he'll find a way out. I know he will."

"I hope you're right, Fleur. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Harry."

"I'm sure everything will be okay. It's going to take some time for everyone to heal, but it will happen, I promise. You have people here who love you, and we're here to help. You'll get through this, Hermione. You all will."

Fleur gave Hermione a hug before standing up and picking up a bottle from the nightstand.

"Here," she said, handing it to Hermione. "Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Dreamless Sleep Draught," Fleur said. "You need to get some good sleep if those wounds are ever going to heal properly. I mixed it with a migraine remedy and a potion for internal injuries, so you'll be healing while you sleep. I've done about everything I can do for your wounds, so we're going to have to let the potions do the rest of the work."

Hermione took the bottle with a small, sad smile. "Thanks."

"Of course," she replied. "Do you still want me to send Ron up later while you're sleeping?"

Hermione nodded. "Please. I mean, if you think he'll be...well, if you don't think he'll be bothered by the sight of me."

"He won't be, I promise. I'm going to set up a cot for him right over there," Fleur said, gesturing to an open space beside the window. "I'll be giving him a sleep potion as well."

"Thanks, Fleur, really," Hermione said. "And not just for this, but for listening. You know..."

Fleur smiled. "Anytime, Hermione. I'm going to go tend to Ron. Is there anything else you need before I go?"

"Actually, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What did you mean earlier, when you said Ron had released raw magic?"

Fleur sighed. "Well, I'm sure you know what raw magic is."

"Isn't it the magic children release when they're young when they can't control it, before they go to school and have wands?"

Fleur nodded. "Precisely. But what you described about Ron sounded like raw magic to me. It's not unheard of, but extremely rare for it to happen to a grown witch or wizard, especially one who has been trained to control their magic."

"But then why did it happen to Ron? How could he have possibly released raw magic?"

"I'm not sure that I'm the right person to tell you that, Hermione." When Hermione looked at her inquiringly, Fleur simply smiled. "Drink your potion and get some sleep. I'll come check on you in a few hours."

Fleur then left the room, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. Sleep certainly sounded good, especially sleep with no dreams at all. She was sure that she'd have nightmares without the potion – nightmares about the man in the trench coat hovering above her, touching her and calling her pretty.

She'd be forever grateful for what Ron did, but she was worried about how things would be between them now. Things had always been a bit awkward between them, and Hermione figured it was because she was head over heels in love with him and he was either too thick to see it or he didn't care. And if he did care, there was never any way he could reciprocate those feelings now after what he saw. It broke Hermione's heart that he saw such things – things she had secretly hoped to share with him someday – and now she was sure everything was ruined.

_Don't cry, Hermione_, she thought to herself as the tears threatened to fall again. _Don't cry. You need to rest. You need to sleep. Tomorrow's another day._ Before she could change her mind, she drank every last drop of the potion Fleur gave to her. At first, she felt nothing, but a mere five seconds later, she could no longer hear the sound of the ocean, and everything around her, from the lavender walls to the seashells that decorated them, faded to black.

* * *

"So it just happened, and you have no idea how?" Bill asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "It was insane. One minute I was struggling against those damn ropes, and the next, they were all sprawled across the ground, unconscious."

Bill leaned back in the armchair he was now occupying, letting out a deep breath. Ron had just told him everything about what went on in the woods, and he knew it was a bloody miracle that both him and Hermione had made it out alive.

"How did you even manage to Apparate here, and without splinching, no less?" Bill asked.

Ron shook his head. "I don't have a bloody clue. I just needed to get Hermione out of there. It was the first thing I thought of, so I did it."

"And it was the right thing to do," came a voice from the stairs. Fleur had reappeared, holding a potion bottle and a glass of water, the latter of which she handed to Ron, who drank it gratefully. He had drank about five glasses of water since arriving at Shell Cottage, and he was still incredibly thirsty.

"How's Hermione?" Bill asked Fleur.

"She's doing okay. She's asleep now, and she should be out for a few hours."

"Can I see her?" Ron asked eagerly. "Please, I know she needs to rest, but I have to see her. I need to know she's okay."

Fleur smiled. "Of course, but I must tend to your wounds. It will only take a few minutes, I promise," she added quickly when she was that he was about to protest.

Fleur sat down beside him on the couch and aimed her wand at his face to clean out the larger cuts. Just as she did with Hermione's wounds, she covered them all in that sticky blue ointment before covering them all in bandages.

"It's done," Fleur said a few minutes later as she applied a final bandage and handed Ron the bottle she had brought from downstairs. "You need to get some rest. Drink this once you're upstairs. I set up a cot for you in Hermione's room. Second door on the left."

Ron took the bottle with a smile and put it in his pocket. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Anytime, Ron," Bill said, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulder. "Anytime. Now you go upstairs to Hermione."

As Ron left the room, climbing the stairs two-at-a-time, Bill turned to Fleur.

"Did Hermione tell you about what happened? About what Ron did?"

"Yes. I almost didn't believe it when she told me."

"Raw magic at his age? It's incredible."

Fleur nodded. "He must really love her."

Bill smiled. "I know he does. It's the only way he could have done it."

Fleur smiled up at him adoringly. "You'd do the same for me, no?"

Bill kissed her on the cheek and tightened his grip on her shoulder. "In a heartbeat."

* * *

Ron slowly opened the door to Hermione's room and peered inside. If by some chance she had woken up, he didn't want to frighten her by bursting in unannounced. He smiled when he saw that she was still peacefully asleep, and he quietly stepped inside. He saw the cot Fleur had set up for him, and she had placed a set of Bill's pajamas on it for him to change into. Ron was more than happy to get out of his dirty, bloody clothes, so he changed as quietly as he could, leaving the bottle of potion on a nearby table.

Before climbing into his own bed, Ron found himself walking towards Hermione, just to see if she was indeed okay. The quilt was pulled up to her chin, and her chest rose and fell with her soft, steady breaths. The cuts on her face looked a lot better than when he had last seen them, and he could definitely tell they were healing rapidly. He silently thanked Merlin once more for Bill and Fleur – if it wasn't for them, they'd both probably be dead, or close to it.

Despite the cuts and bruises, Hermione still looked stunningly beautiful to Ron, just like she always had. Her frizzy hair was spread out across the pillow, perfectly framing her lovely face. Ron could feel himself tear up, thinking about what had happened to her. He couldn't imagine how anyone in their right mind would want to hurt this beautiful girl, yet he had seen it with his own eyes, and it sickened him.

Without realizing he was doing it, Ron slowly leaned forward and placed a soft, gentle kiss on Hermione's forehead. He took her warm hand in his own and rubbed it with his thumb.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered to her sleeping form. "I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner. I promise, I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again. I promise, Hermione. I'll keep you safe. I'm not going anywhere."

Ron lifted her hand to place a tender kiss there, and he squeezed it lightly.

"If you need me, I'll be right over there in that cot. I'll stay with you for as long as you want me to. If you need me, just wake me up – I won't get mad, I promise. You sleep well, okay?"

With one final squeeze to her hand, Ron walked over to his cot, picking up his bottle of potion along the way. As soon as he laid down, he drank the bottle's entire contents and waited for sleep to come. The last thing he saw before darkness clouded his eyes was his beautiful Hermione asleep next to him, safe and sound.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know, I know...there's not much Ron/Hermione interaction in this chapter, but it had to be done. The next one will make up for it, I promise. Also, my apologies for Fleur's dialogue - I've tried multiple times to write her lines with a French accent, and I've failed miserably every time. So just pretend it's there. :p

As always, thanks for reading! See you soon for Chapter 5! :)


	5. Part V: The Reunion

**Author's** **Note**: I can't even begin to tell you all how sorry I am for this ridiculously overdue update. And I left you all hanging in quite a terrible spot, didn't I? Eeesh. :( I hate when authors do that and I always told myself I'd never be one of those people. All I can say is I'm terribly sorry.

My only reasoning is that I lost the motivation to rewrite this chapter. I had it written months ago and it was just about complete. Then my laptop decided to crash, and I lost everything. I know that's a pathetic excuse, but it's difficult to get in the mood to write something you've already written, if that makes any sense.

Alas, I hope you all aren't too mad at me! This is the final chapter, and I hope it suffices. I really appreciate your patience. Enjoy, and thank you for your continued support! :)

* * *

**_Part V – The Reunion_**

When Ron woke up, his stomach was fiercely rumbling. The darkness outside the window indicated that the day was already well into the evening hours, and the tea and biscuits Xenophilius Lovegood had given them seemed like a lifetime ago.

He glanced over at Hermione, and he smiled when he saw that she was still in a deep, peaceful slumber; he assumed Fleur had given her a slightly stronger potion than his own. Ron didn't want to leave Hermione's side, but his stomach simply would not rest. Fleur had even told him that he needed to eat to regain his strength.

_I'll just run downstairs and grab something,_ he thought. _I won't be gone longer than five minutes. She'll be okay._ Content with that plan, Ron quietly exited the room before he could change his mind.

Once down the stairs and in the sitting room, he could see that the clock on the wall indicated it was a little past eleven, so he was surprised to see three people wide awake once he made his way into the kitchen. Fleur was standing at the counter making sandwiches, while Bill sat at the table with a cup of tea. What shocked Ron the most, however, was the person sitting directly across from his eldest brother.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed at the sight of his best mate. Harry was heavily cut and bruised, looking quite disheveled and worn-out, but he rose from his seat to embrace Ron.

"He got here just minutes after you went upstairs to Hermione," Bill said with a smile.

"Blimey, mate, what happened?" Ron asked after he and Harry broke apart at sat down at the table. "When they took you...Merlin...I thought we'd never see you again."

"Malfoy Manor," Harry said. "Dobby saved us. He...he's dead."

"Wait...what? Dobby's dead? But how? And what do you mean, 'us?'"

Harry told the quick, abbreviated version of the tale he had told Bill and Fleur just hours before. He was taken to Malfoy Manor and thrown into the basement with Luna, Dean, Griphook, and Mr. Ollivander. Dobby appeared to save them all, and the only place Harry could think of that would be safe was Shell Cottage, as he remembered Ron talking about it when he returned to him and Hermione. Dobby apparated them all to safety, but Bellatrix managed to pierce his heart with her silver dagger. He died right outside on the beach.

Ron was positively gobsmacked. He knew Malfoy Manor was practically the Death Eaters' headquarters now, and it must have been nearly impossible to escape. It was an absolute miracle that his best friend was sitting right across from him quite beaten up, but alive. And Luna and Dean...they were okay, too. Three dear friends of his who he thought he'd never see again were under the same roof as him. Ron had barely known Dobby, but he'd be forever grateful to the little elf for the selfless sacrifice he made.

"How are you doing, mate?" Harry asked Ron. "And what about Hermione? What happened to the two of you?"

"Hermione's doing okay," he said, relief washing over him once more as he said the words he knew were true. He avoided telling Harry exactly what had happened; he'd let that be Hermione's decision. "She's asleep right now. I'm okay, too, I think. I still feel pretty weak."

"I'm not surprised," Fleur said suddenly from behind them. "Are you hungry? You must be. Hermione, too."

"I'm famished, but I don't know about Hermione. She's still sleeping. I don't want to wake her."

Fleur smiled as she sat down beside Bill. "You won't have to. The potion I made for her was brewed to last for eight hours. She should be up any minute now."

Ron glanced at the small clock above the stove; he had been downstairs for nearly fifteen minutes already.

_Merlin, what if she's already awake? _ he thought. _What if she's scared? What if she needs me?_

Ron stood up suddenly. "I'm going upstairs. Hermione...I told her I'd be there when she woke up..."

Fleur gestured to the counter, where there was a tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice.

"Take that with you," she said. "You'll need it."

Ron nodded. "I will, thank you." He turned to Harry, feeling awful that he was leaving so quickly. "I'm sorry, mate..."

Harry held up his hand to stop him. "Don't worry about it. We'll talk tomorrow. Take care of Hermione, okay? Give her a hug for me."

Ron smiled. "I will. It's great to have you back, Harry."

Ron grabbed the tray from the counter before exiting the kitchen and heading up the stairs, once again feeling his heart fill with gratitude for Bill and Fleur. Where would Harry have gone after Malfoy Manor if it wasn't for them? Where would _he_ have gone to bring Hermione to safety? Never had Ron thought he'd be so grateful for a tiny little cottage on the coast.

He quietly opened the door, and he sighed with relief upon the sight of Hermione still sleeping. He tiptoed across the room and gently placed the tray down on the nightstand. The second he put it down, he heard her begin to stir.

"Umph..."

Not sure if she was actually waking up or just muttering in her sleep, Ron shifted his gaze to her, not daring to look away. Slowly but surely, her hand began to twitch and her eyes fluttered.

"Rr...Ro...nn...Ron..."

In an instant, Ron forgot about his raging hunger and sat down in the chair beside the bed. He gingerly took her hand in his own.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Ron..." she whimpered. Her eyes slowly opened, gazing at the ceiling.

"I'm here, Hermione. I'm here."

She turned her gaze toward his voice, and Ron smiled.

"Hermione," was all he said. He squeezed her hand gently as he felt his heart swell with joy at the sight of the beautiful brown eyes he adored. She really _was_ okay, and just seeing her awake made him want to cry.

"Ron," she breathed. "You're alright."

He nodded, tears filling his eyes. After all she had been through, the first thing she concerned herself with was his well-being. She was such a selfless person. No wonder he loved her so much.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay...I think...I'm just so glad you're okay, and..." she stopped suddenly, her face falling. "Oh no. Harry...we have to find Harry..."

"He's fine," Ron said reassuringly. "He's downstairs. He's okay. Luna and Dean are, too."

"Wh-what? How?"

"It's a long story, but they're safe. They're all safe, Hermione."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She smiled slightly. "Wow..."

Ron couldn't help but smile, too. "Can I get you anything?"

"Um...maybe an extra blanket? Merlin, it's freezing in here..."

"Sure," Ron said, immediately standing up and grabbing the quilt from his own cot. He draped it across her petite body, tucking her in as if she were a small child. She smiled at him slightly before letting her eyes drift closed again.

"Thank you," she whispered. She sounded so weak and fatigued; he felt terrible.

"Is there anything else you need? Whatever it is, I'll get it."

"Actually," she said softly, opening here eyes once more, "would you maybe...I mean, could you..." her voice trailed off.

"What do you need, Hermione? Just say the word."

Her eyes met his, and even though the room was dark, Ron could tell she was blushing slightly.

"Would you lay with me for a little while?" she asked sheepishly.

"Really?" Ron asked, his voice slightly higher than he intended. He coughed in an attempt to cover it up, then nodded. "I mean, yeah. Yeah, of course."

Hermione slowly moved over to give Ron some room. He wasn't exactly sure what she wanted him to do, so he laid on his back on top of the blankets and didn't touch her, simply staring at the ceiling until she spoke again.

"Ron?"

He looked over at her nervously. "Yeah?"

"You...you can get under the blankets, you know. You'll freeze if you don't."

"O-okay," he stammered. He gingerly adjusted himself so he could slide beneath the blankets, but again, he didn't touch Hermione. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable or violated, especially after what had happened that day. He didn't want to seem like one of _them._ They were both quiet for a few minutes before Hermione was again the one to break the silence.

"Ron, could...could I, we...could you maybe...hold me?"

Ron felt his eyes widen in shock. Had he heard her correctly?

"I'm still cold..." she whispered.

"Sure, of course," he managed to choke out. He was convinced he was dreaming. Not only was he laying beside Hermione, but _she_ wanted _him_ to hold her. At his words, Hermione moved closer to him and gingerly rested her head on his chest. Suddenly, he knew it was all real because he could feel her warmth and her breath. He bravely wrapped one arm securely around her shoulders and let the other slide around her middle. He froze in horror, however, when his hand accidentally grazed the side of her breast. Ron felt her muscles tense upon the contact, and he wanted to die.

"Merlin...blimey, Hermione, I didn't mean...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Ron stammered. He felt like such a prat. After everything she had gone through, he just had to mistakenly touch her there. She probably hated him now. If she had her full strength, he would have expected to be hexed into next week, but as she was still frail, he braced himself for the order to leave both the bed and the room.

But it never came.

"Ron, it's okay," Hermione whispered after a couple of seconds. "I...I know you'd never hurt me."

Relief washed over him not at the fact that she didn't kick him out, but because she knew he would never intentionally cause her any harm. He was so elated that she knew that.

"Just...just keep holding me," she whispered. "Don't go..."

She sounded so desperate and almost frightened, and it broke his heart. Ron tightened his grip on her, and he felt her body snuggle up closer to his own. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were their steady breaths, the ticking clock on the wall, and the distant roar of the ocean outside. It was tranquil and quaint, and Ron thought he could easily drift off to sleep with Hermione in his arms. But then out of nowhere, he felt her body begin to shake a little. She was crying.

Ron lifted his head in a panic.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked frantically. "What do you need? Should I get Fleur? Just tell me what you need, I'll get it, whatever it is..."

Hermione just shook her head and continued to cry into his chest, refusing to look up at him.

"I don't need anything. I'm just..." her voice trailed off.

"What is it?" he asked, desperate to help her. "Please, Hermione, tell me."

"Ron..." she sobbed. "I was so scared...so scared..."

"Hermione..."

"I was just so worried, Ron...when that Snatcher knocked you out, I thought you were dead...it was horrible...and then just being alone with them, thinking you were gone...they tortured me, told me all the things they were going to do to me...I would have rather died...but you...you came back...you saved me...you're a hero to me..."

"Hermione, I'm no hero," Ron attempted to argue. He really didn't feel like one. Being a hero was all about glory, and he certainly didn't feel glorious for doing what he did after what he saw.

"But you are!" she said through her tears. "If it wasn't for you, they all would have succeeded in doing all of those vile things they were planning to do. They'd have killed me. I'd be laying dead in that forest if it wasn't for you! I don't know how I can ever repay you for that, Ron."

"Hermione, listen to me. You don't owe me a thing. I'm not a hero. I just did what I had to do."

All of a sudden, Ron understood what Harry had been trying to tell him for all those years. There was no glory in facing such atrocious things while attempting to fight for your life and the life of someone you care about. _This_ was what he had been jealous of for so long? He felt like a fool. He was never going to make that mistake again.

"I'm just so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner, Hermione," Ron whispered, desperately trying to hold back the tears he could feel forming as he thought about what probably happened to her while he was unconscious. "I'm so sorry..."

"It wasn't your fault, Ron."

"I know, but I just wish I could have got to them before-" he stopped suddenly, not wanting to bring up the day's earlier events. Instead, he just tightened his hold on her and pulled her closer to him.

"You got to them. You got us both out of there. That's all that matters," she said.

Ron still felt bad for not helping her quicker than he did, but he wasn't going to argue with her. He just snuggled up to her instead, and the two of them stayed quiet for a while. After a few minutes, Hermione spoke, and it was barely audible when she did.

"How did you do it?" she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"The ropes. You didn't have a wand when you broke them. How'd you do that?"

"I honestly don't know." It was the truth; Ron didn't have a bloody clue about he got himself out of those damn things.

"Fleur said it was raw magic."

"Like what kids have?"

"Yeah."

"Well...that's embarrassing."

"She didn't mean it in a bad way. She just meant you lost control of your magic, that's all. I mean, obviously it wasn't a bad thing. It got us out of those woods, didn't it?"

"Yeah, I know."

"So you really don't know how you did it?"

Ron shook his head. "Not at all. All I did was think about how I needed to get out of there. How I needed to get to you. How I-"

Ron stopped himself before he gave away too much information. He had been about to say how much he loved her, but he certainly wasn't going to make that mistake. He hoped Hermione would just leave it alone but...it was Hermione, after all. When did she ever leave anything alone?

"How you what?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Ron, please...tell me," she whispered. "I really want to figure out how you got us out of there. It might come in handy some time."

Ron sighed. "I just thought about you, and...how much I care about you, and...you know..."

He could feel himself blushing with every word, and despite the fact that the room was dark, he still prayed Hermione couldn't see him. She adjusted herself so her head was upright, and he could feel her looking at him.

"What are you saying?"

"Just leave it."

"Ron-"

"I love you, okay?" he blurted out.

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the room went silent for a brief moment.

"What?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I bloody love you, Hermione," Ron said, "and that's what I thought of. When I was trying to break free, that was all I could think about. All I thought about was you and how much you mean to me. I couldn't let them hurt you anymore. I just couldn't. Then somehow the ropes snapped – I haven't the faintest idea how – and here we are. Here we are, and I'm the biggest prat on the planet."

"Ron, you're not-" she attempted to argue, but Ron cut her off.

"Yes I am, Hermione! After everything that happened today, after everything you went through-"

"Ron-"

"-I have to go and drop this on you? Bloody hell, I'm such an arse."

"Will you sto-"

"Look, I know you don't feel the same way. I mean, honestly, why should you? I'd consider you a fool if you did, really-"

"R-"

"So just forget I said anything, alright? I'll just leave, and I'll see you in the morning. I'm sor-"

"RON!" Hermione exclaimed in a loud whisper as to not disturb the rest of the house. "Will you shut up for just two seconds?"

"I'm sorry. I'm such a bleedin'-"

"You're doing it again."

"I'm sor-" Ron began, but he stopped himself.

"Listen to me," Hermione whispered. "You really _are_ a prat."

"I know-"

"Let me finish," she said. "You're not a prat because you said what you felt. You're a prat because you had the gall to assume what _I_ feel."

He raised an eyebrow and eyed her inquiringly. "Hermione?"

"What made you think I don't care about you in that way, too?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm not smart. I'm not brave. I'm incredibly poor. I have nothing to offer you. I'm not _Harry."_

"Will you knock it off with the Harry thing?" Hermione scolded. "What do I have to do to convince you that I don't see him in that way? Yes, I do love Harry, but as a friend. He's the brother I always wanted but never got to have. But you...Merlin, Ron, I could never see you like that. It's always been more. It's _always_ been you."

"Hermione-"

"No, you listen to me," she said, tears threatening to fall. "I'm tired of you always being such a hard critic on yourself. Stop comparing yourself to your brothers, to Harry. You _are_ smart and brave. You got me out of those woods, didn't you? And I don't care about money; when have I ever given a damn about something so trivial? I don't want any of that. All I want is you, just the way you are. Only Merlin knows why, because you're a complete pain in the arse and you drive me bonkers and we argue all the time, but I love it. I love _you."_

Ron didn't know if she still had more to say, but he didn't care. He'd heard everything he needed to hear. He gently captured her lips with his own in a simple, chaste kiss. He loved this girl more than anything in the world – and for a long time, too – and to finally know she felt the same way about him was beyond comprehension. The outside world didn't exist. It was just him and Hermione in that little room in Shell Cottage, with her hands on his shoulders and his hand buried in her hair. For the first time in a long time, everything felt alright in the world.

Though it seemed like a blissful eternity, it was really only about a minute before they broke apart and looked at each other. They smiled before Hermione laid her head back down upon Ron's chest, snuggling up to him once more. Ron pulled the blanket tighter around their shoulders.

"We're going to win this thing," he whispered, gently stroking her back. "We're going to beat him."

"I know we will."

"And then we can start this, really start this. No one will ever hurt you again, not while I'm around. You know that, right?"

She nodded. "I know."

Though no further words were exchanged between them, there was a mutual understanding. They both knew they couldn't start a solid relationship with a war going on. There was simply too much at stake.

The sandwiches Fleur made sat forgotten on the nightstand. Ron wasn't hungry anymore, and even if he was, there's no chance he'd move. He had Hermione, _his_ Hermione, laying across his body and in his arms. He wouldn't move until she was ready. And considering her breathing was changing, indicating that she was falling asleep once more, Ron figured she wouldn't be wanting him to move until morning, and he was perfectly fine with that. His eyelids were getting heavy, too, and it wasn't long before he joined Hermione in a peaceful sleep.

It would take a while for both of them to recover, both physically and emotionally, from the events of that day, but they'd get through it. Together, they could get through anything. But that was a task for tomorrow and the days beyond. That night, they took comfort in having a few peaceful hours together in one another's arms, where they belonged.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! :)**


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